The day before school began was bittersweet. For one thing, it's never easy to say goodbye to the one you love. Yet, that seems to be a regular part of Hermione and Marcus's relationship. They long for the day when they can live life beside each other without the hassle of being in different locations. Then for another thing, Hermione's heart is at odds with her mind.
By nature, she's a peacemaker. That mentality reigns supreme in everything she does. Although, that doesn't mean she won't call people out on their crap, primarily if it affects her in some way. She has done so before and has no qualms about doing so again. But that doesn't negate the ability for peacemaking. And Hermione's keeping the peace wars against her present frustration with Harry, Ron, and the Order of the Phoenix.
She's tired of hearing about how all Slytherins are evil followers of Voldemort. They aren't, and her new friends are proof of that. It must be a tiresome thing to think ill of everyone and hold them to some unobtainable standard of perfection. Hermione's weary of that line of thinking because no one is perfect, even though she strives for it in her own life.
It goes back to Marcus telling her to slow down and breathe, which is silly. Everyone already breathes, but when she sees the big picture, it becomes overwhelming. That's why he tries to get her to refocus when life comes rushing at her. Her goal is to stop rushing, but that part of her brain that says go won't quit. It's like everything is on high alert because of school, friend situations, and Voldemort. But when it's just her and Marcus, time slows down. He's good for her in that way. She can breathe and see things more clearly when she's with him. And it's incredible how much more life a person has time for if you stop to breathe and refocus.
So, when Hermione began twisting her hair up in a messy bun, biting her fingernails, and consistently sighing with each page turn of her book, Marcus took the book out of her hands and set it on the coffee table. Looking at her, he asked, "Alright. What's wrong?"
The nervous witch angled herself to sit cross-legged on the sofa and better view her boyfriend. Her hands went to the temples of her forehead and started massaging as she spoke. "Well, the thing is, I'm anxious to return to school tomorrow," the curly-haired Gryffindor explained.
Raising his eyebrows at that unexpected statement, because when has she ever not wanted to go to school, Marcus prodded. "Why? I don't recall you ever feeling like this before with school. So, why now, Hermione?"
Her honey eyes grew watery, and she started twisting a simple birthstone ring around her finger. "It's just-" She trailed off in thought.
Seizing the moment, Marcus slid himself close to his sweetheart. He took her hand into his large one and caressed it. After placing a kiss on her temple, he encouraged her to continue. Hermione allowed herself to soak in his love and carried on with her thoughts. "It's hard to forget how you felt uncared for by people who are supposed to care for you. I've looked out for Harry and Ron every year. Not once did they check on me after the incident last school term. And when I did see them this summer, they only talked about death eaters and such. The other day when we went school book shopping, the two kept going on and on about evil Slytherins. They think all of you are death eaters, especially Malfoy. It gets tiresome hearing the same thing all the time."
Marcus can understand her sentiments. It bothers him how those two idiots didn't inquire about his girlfriend, either. One thing he learned was she doesn't need them. They need her. He kissed her temple again and pulled her to lean back in his arms so that she would rest against his chest. That's when the muscular Slytherin reminded her, "They're not your only friends. You have Luna and Ginny. Plus, there's Adrian. Even though he's an undercover supporter of Potter, basically, you can reach out to him when you need it. Besides using the locket and the owl my Gram loaned you, he's the best way to get in touch with me. And I'm always yours, any time, day or night."
That made Hermione feel better. His reminders of all the other people she has in her life helped her refocus on the good and not the negative. She snuggled into his embrace and let his arms hold every fear and concern. His arms don't just make the petite Gryffindor feel complete. No. They're everything she needs to face what life throws at her.
While they cuddled, Marcus suggested with his lovely baritone voice, "Why don't we go to that riverside walk place in Muggle London? You know, the one that has that carousel with fake horses and stuff. We could ride it, stroll along the walk, and grab some dinner. It would be a relaxing way to spend your last night of freedom before the new school year starts tomorrow."
This idea made Hermione smile. "I'd love to. Do I get to choose where we eat? You chose last time," she indicated while stroking his arm lightly.
His response was to take her hand and bring it up for a kiss. Then he stood and helped her stand as well. After summoning his wallet, together they flooed to Hermione's house. From there, they carefully apparated to a shady spot along the riverside. Hand-in-hand, the pair ambled along the walkway, taking in the sights and sounds of the busy city. For Marcus Muggle, London is a bit overwhelming. It's easy to get lost if you don't know where you're going or claustrophobic. Luckily he has a great guide.
The closer they got to the ride, the more they could hear the cries of the children having fun. From a distance, Hermione could see the golden carousel perfectly. It always appeared magical to her, before even knowing what real magic was. Having grown up in a home that supports the performing arts, her parents introduced her to the theater. At a young age, Hermione remembers seeing her first West End musical at the Queen's Theater- Cats.
It was divine and wove a spell on her all on its own. Having seen the performers dressed up like cats was spectacular. It made her want to be one for Halloween that year. And Hermione was one- a sleek, cute, black kitty with a black tulle tutu, fuzzy black leg warmers, a cat tail, and, best of all, pretty kitty ears. It had been one of her favorite costumes ever.
And as Hermione grew up, her love of musicals has never gone away. One of her favorites is the Carousel musical about the carnival worker Billy Bigelow. He dies and gets one chance to redeem himself and make things right with the people he left behind. However, what she remembers most about it as a child, was the giant carousel and imagining that it could spin and take her anywhere she wanted in the world.
In her mind, the massive spinning contraption could carry a person to the past or future too. So anytime Hermione sees a carousel, her thoughts are flooded with those memories of musicals and daydreams. With a secret smile, she pulled her boyfriend close to the wheel and got in line with him. They waited for their turn and watched the others enjoy the thrill of the ride. The pair stood locked in an embrace with his arms around her.
It's the sweetest, most ideal thing to take her mind off her troubles. At least for a little while. Once they reached the ticket booth, Marcus paid for them. Like a child, Hermione wandered around, looking at the different horses. Until she stopped at the one, she always rode with her father. The pretty carved horse named Annie, with the blue flower and pink and green paint. That's her favorite one. Marcus took the horse beside her, and once the other riders got situated, the carousel began to turn.
It made the quidditch player happy to see the girl he loves relax. Sometimes he worries about how much stress she bears on her shoulders by herself. It's not good for anyone to carry their burdens alone, which is why he nettles her until she gives some of it to him to take. His shoulders are tough enough to help her handle it. Stretching his hand across the way, Marcus closed the distance and took hers into his. They held hands for the remainder of the ride and enjoyed themselves thoroughly, laughing and smiling with the muggles.
But just like that, the fun ended with many resounding cracks from the sky. It was followed by whooshing billows and furious swirls of black and grey smoke in the air. That could only mean one thing. Out of nowhere, black hooded figures wearing faceless silver masks surrounded the giant carousel. They stood staring straight ahead, like sentry guards, in Marcus and Hermione's direction. The dark demons have arrived to play.
Instantly the Gryffindor's stomach dropped, and her heartbeat sped up. Gooseflesh broke out on her skin as multiple horrific screams shattered the joy of the carousel. For a brief moment, Hermione wondered if her eyes had deceived her. Perhaps it's the anxiety of school starting that's spilled out into real life. Maybe it's all in her head. But it's not.
Everywhere the couple looked, death eaters stood in their way, wrapped around the musical wheel. Knowing once the spinning stopped, the evil figures would cast curses, their hands tightened their hold on each other. There seemed to be no escape, trapped like hamsters in a cage. And there will be blood... lots of blood.
Marcus began to get a bit dizzy with the constant revolving motion, the carnival music blaring, and the black-shrouded figures. His stomach lurched, and every gut and muscle of his body tensed. The hairs prickled up on the back of his neck. Even a few sweat beads broke out on his forehead. He sat as still and as quiet as a dragon stalking its prey.
Despite everything standing in their way, Hermione's first instinct was to take note of the muggles on the ride. She has to keep them safe. Then with her free hand, she seized her wand. But before anything could happen, rational thought returned to Marcus's brain. He apparated them to safety. On the comfort of his front lawn, he took one step and grabbed his girl in his arms. That good, safe feeling returned because this- his arms- is her home. The two stood there embracing and whispering soothing reassurances. As soon as their hearts settled down, Hermione lightly hit his arm.
"You nut! You could have splinched us," she reprimanded. Although it was a very weak rebuke. Were it not for his quick thinking, they could be on the back end of a terrible situation.
Her burly idiot inhaled her pleasing, tropical scent. His voice wavered a little. "I know, but I had to get us out of there. I couldn't stand by and do nothing to save us. I only hope the muggles are alright, especially the children." If the children are injured... Like an Avada hitting the intended target, that will hurt Marcus's heart.
Hermione agrees with his sentiments. And then one singular thought smacked her upside the head. Unfortunately, she realized, "Well, I think it's safe to say that your father now knows we're dating."
Once it dawned on her Slytherin, he blurted out, "Oh bloody hell!" Everything barrelled in on him. In dramatic fashion, Marcus proclaimed, "I'm definitely getting burned off the family tree. I'll have a darkened portrait, and all the little Flints for generations to come will gather around it. Their pureblood parents will point and tell them: There was once a guy named Marcus Flint. Now he's a blood traitor who won't get a family vault, an inheritance, not even a cent."
Unable to stop herself, Hermione laughed at his ridiculous rhyme. She tugged his hand and started walking them to the house. When they entered, the duo sequestered themselves in the den. Sitting on her worried boyfriend's lap, Hermione began massaging the back of his neck with her nimble fingers. "At least you won't have to put up with all of Slytherin house being unpleasant and nasty to you. Once the death eater's children know about the two of us, I'm sure I'll have foul curses and loathsome names thrown at me."
Marcus nuzzled the side of her neck. He reminded her, "You're wearing protective jewelry. So anything they hurl at you will bounce off. Maybe it'll stick to them like it did my dreadful father." He placed a kiss where he nuzzled.
Right on cue, Maxwell's owl Ascalaphus delivered an enchanted red envelope. Hermione said in a cute voice, playfully pinching his side, "Awe, look! You got a howler."
Taking the dreadful letter into his hands, after receiving a peck from the evil owl, Marcus ran a hand down the length of his face. Upon opening it, Maxwell Flint's booming voice announced, "You have brought shame to the family name of Flint. Refusing to take the dark mark is one thing. Galavanting around with a mudblood is another entirely. From this day forward, you will be removed from the family vault, your inheritance will be forfeited, your name will be stricken from the family tree, and you will be forever labeled a blood traitor."
It's as Marcus had assumed. Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, dear old dad said, "And know this, Marcus, if my fellow brethren come across you, I will not dissuade them from punishing you. Ten times worse will be done to your mudblood, especially since she's Potter's mudblood. The Dark Lord is already up in arms over Potter as it is. I will not make excuses if he suspects you of aiding in any way. You will suffer the consequences of your actions. Let the punishment fit the crime."
Then it grew quiet. The voice and the howler stopped. The pair thought it was over, and Hermione began to nuzzle into him. But Maxwell's voice filled the room again for a final threat, chilling their bones. "This could all be wiped away. It can all be forgiven. All you have to do is return to the family, renounce your mudblood in front of the Dark Lord and his followers, and plead for mercy. Otherwise, I will rip your heart out and make it bleed while you watch. I'm nothing if not a man of my word. It's your choice, son."
Then the message burst into flames leaving only ashes behind. The day caught up with Marcus. He launched forward and vomited on the floor. That message allowed Hermione to see precisely the kind of enemy they were dealing with. She knew of it before, but now she knows it for real. Savages- pure savages are what these monsters are. That's what they're all fighting against. The enemy has shown its brutal hand because there is no forgiveness from savages. So, Hermione set about comforting Marcus the only way she knew how.
Calling for Topsy, the resilient witch began telling the elf what to do. She had him take his master to the bath and then put him to bed. Next, she called for Toffee, whom she had prepare a consolation pizza. Finally, Hermione flooed home to get an essential ingredient. Once her hands nabbed it, she returned to the chateau and bounded up the stairs.
Now, all clean, lying in bed wearing a white t-shirt and navy plaid boxer shorts, Marcus stared up at the ceiling. He pondered his future as Hermione came to sit beside him. His heart rate calmed down as he took in her sweet face. Noticing the lump of something in her hands, the curious athlete asked, "What is that?"
A brilliant smile lit up her mouth and shone forth from her eyes. Holding it out, Hermione asserted, "Oh, this is the most wonderful thing in the whole world besides your kisses, of course." Pointing to the tube, she explained, "This is nothing but pure sugary goodness. It's like the single cure for sadness. It's raw cookie dough." Then she opened it, pinched off some, and deposited it into her mouth. A moan escaped.
Marcus eyed her and the tube of dough suspiciously. Seeing his expression, the witch pinched another glob off and placed it into his hand. Holding it up to his nose, the wizard inhaled its scent. It smelled alright, he supposes. Upon her encouragement, he tasted some. Spluttering it out, he summoned a rag and wiped off his mouth. With disgust all over his face, Marcus wondered, "How can you eat that junk? It's raw! And full of sugar!"
Giving him the evil eye, Hermione told him, "Look, guy. Let me give you a clue. People say we should eat more raw foods. Well, I'm doing my part. Raw cookie dough is better than the actual cookies. Plus, it's my magic cure-all for any kind of sadness. It's like a hug for your tummy but better."
After making gagging noises, Marcus nudged her with his elbow. "Barf," he said. She ignored his antics until the pizza arrived, and they ate it in bed. Then they settled down and turned on a movie with the television they wired in his bedroom one summer afternoon. Even though the film was on, they lay there discussing the revelations from the howler.
The couple decided they couldn't escape their problems. So, Marcus will keep his head high, now known as a blood traitor. He'll also keep his eyes open and alert whenever he's out of the house. Hermione begged him not to take his signet ring off, not even in the shower. He begged the same of her. Eventually, Marcus drifted off to sleep, but his witch's brain was wide awake. This kind of day was not how she had planned to spend the day before term began, but life doesn't always work out the way we intended.
Ever so quietly, she snuck out of bed and down the stairs. Knowing where her man keeps his quidditch gear, the stealthy witch went to the broom closet. It's there she cast protective charms over all of his equipment, something that had never occurred to do before now. Pleased with herself, Hermione returned to the warmth of the bedroom. No sooner had she laid down than his arms enveloped her tiny frame. That moment when he rolls over, puts his arms around her, and pulls her closer in his sleep makes it all worthwhile. He's her reason, and she'll protect him with all her might, no matter how difficult the road may be. But there's something she can't get off her brain. It's making her all the more anxious. How did the death eaters know where to find them at the carousel?